


The Daughter of Isabel Rochev

by writewithurheart



Series: The Evelyn Sharp Chronicles [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Gen, It actually works timewise, Robert Queen lovechild, speculation fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 18:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10973094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writewithurheart/pseuds/writewithurheart
Summary: Isabel Rochev wanted Queen Consolidated not just because she was Robert's former mistress, but because she was the mother of his child.Based onthis tumblr post





	The Daughter of Isabel Rochev

This couldn’t be happening.

It was impossible. She had been careful, methodically so. Yes, she’d been young and naive, but she had a good head on her shoulders and she knew the importance of birth control. She wasn’t   
an idiot. She had  _ fallen _ in love.

Perhaps that was her downfall looking back, the chip in her armor, her Achilles heel. If she had just kept feelings out of it, handled sex like a business transaction, then she wouldn’t be in this mess.

She stares at the white plastic stick on the counter as the seconds tick down, even though she already knows what it’s going to say. It’s going to match the other two tests hastily purchased on the way home from work.

There were a thousand reasons why she shouldn’t have done it - fallen in love with him, that is. The first of which was the tiny fact that he was married, with children. But that had been inconsequential as soon as they had gotten to know each other. He was charismatic and charming. He had a way of looking at her as though she was the only person in a room who mattered. It was enough to melt a young girl’s heart.   
  


But then there was also his position. He was respected, adored by all, and he had wanted  _ her. _ Out of the hundreds of people he saw and interacted with daily, he would carve out time just for her, to make her feel special.

She twists to stare out the window of the cramped bathroom, no longer able to stare at the pregnancy test.

Yes, Robert had adored her. He’d said he would do anything, had promised to  _ leave his wife _ , but   
then that call came in. They’d been in the goddamned airport, baggage in hand. It was all part of the plan: force Moira’s hand to file for divorce. If she tried to enforce the pre-nup, then they had the ammo they needed to stay her hand. After all, she was the one who had a child out of wedlock. Robert had at least been courteous enough not to do that.

So when he got the call about Thea’s accident, she thought he would stay with her, would tell Moira to call Malcolm instead. She was so foolishly confident in that moment until his blue   
worried eyes had met hers.

_ I have to go. _

She had thought a hand would be enough to keep him by her side, and that same hand curls into a fist as the words echo in her head as vividly as if they had flown from her mouth.  _ Robert, you can’t do this! If you go back now, you’ll always be looking back. _

_ I don’t have a choice, Isabel. I have to go to her. But as soon as I can, I will come get you, and we can run away. _

_ She’s not even your daughter _ . Those had been the wrong words to say. She’d known as soon as they had escaped. She might not have been biologically his – and she had listened to him complain about Moira’s infidelity more than once – but Thea Queen still managed to be Daddy’s Little Girl, more important to him than the woman he claimed to love.

_ Don’t say that. Thea may not be mine by blood, but she’s still my daughter. I will find you when I can. _

It was one too many empty promises for her. He was there, on the cusp of changing his whole life, and he was changing his mind. She didn’t want someone who couldn’t give her everything in return.

Somehow, he had convinced her to stay, to wait for him. She’d gone back to her apartment and wallowed, waited for him like the same lovesick girl she was. She’d pined.

She’d waited for him to come, waited all weekend. Then on Monday, without anything better to do, she had returned to her internship at Queen Consolidated, only to be turned away at the door without a single explanation.

Enraged, she’d turned around and driven to Queen Mansion, without a plan, without any purpose other than to force Robert to acknowledge her, to acknowledge her love as more than just some passing fancy.

Moira had put her in her place, as soon as Isabel walked through the front door. Making it to the mansion had been unexpected to say the least. She shouldn’t have been surprised to be confronted by Moira Queen, but she had been.

_ Robert will never leave his family, least of all for a tramp like you. You’re going to leave this city, leave this state, and never bother my family again.  _

She hadn’t left immediately, had struggled to find her own job, but Moira had successfully blacklisted her from every decent company in Starling and Robert hadn’t answered her call.

Her heart had shattered a little more with every step she took away, but now here she was making a new name for herself.

_ Beep. Beep. Beepbeep. _

Blindly, she reaches out and cuts off the time, wiping stray tears from her cheeks. She takes one shaky breath. Another. And another until they no longer come out stilted. That was a month and a half ago. A month and a half since she swore she wouldn’t care if he walked away. She vowed to harden her heart, to never let a man break her that way again.

But she hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected a child.

She picks up the last pregnancy test, staring at the pink plus sign. She’ll have to go to the doctor to confirm it, but she already knows it’s the truth. She’s had morning sickness, aches, fatigue.

She could go running back to Robert, could reach out, tell him about his child. But Moira’s kept him close since that night. She’s seen the Starling City news, the two of them with their idyllic family. It made her sick to look at them, to witness the lies perpetuated by just calling them a family unit.

He would be happy, she thinks, if he were here, if he would ever listen to her. But he’s not and she refuses to go back to him.

Isabel Rochev throws the text into the garbage and strides into the kitchen to grab a fresh glass of water. She has a job here, at Stellmor International, a decent one. It won’t be easy, but she thinks she can do this, that she can climb the ranks here, fight her way to the top and then go back to Starling and throw everything back in Moira’s face.

Her hand comes to rest over her abdomen, where a child is growing. Yes, she’ll go back to Starling and reclaim Queen Consolidated for her and her child.

One day.

…

She names her daughter Evelyn, and they survive on their own perfectly fine. She raises her in Russia, using her native language to her advantage while still teaching her daughter English at home. She finds men to help keep them in money, men she can use and dispose as necessary. Her daughter is of paramount importance. She does whatever she needs to do to protect her daughter, and she keeps her eyes on Queen Consolidated and the legacy that should be her

Then in 2007 the sinking of the Queen’s Gambit make international news.

Evelyn is eight years old and Isabel decides the time is right to make her first move.

She leaves Evelyn in the care of her foster sister in Coast City and continues on to Starling, walking right into Queen Consolidated. She’s eight years older and what feels like a century wiser. She’s no longer cowed by the great and terrible Moira Queen. She’s confident and powerful.

But in that boardroom, she still feels small. Moira Queen has too many allies, too many connections. She knows long before the vote that she’s not going to get her foot in the door, even with her Stellmor recommendations and her former status as Robert’s golden girl.

If she brings in Evelyn, she might have a chance of her daughter getting something, through lengthy custody battles and court cases. But it won’t give her control of Queen Consolidated, won’t give her daughter anything more than a tarnished legacy.

So she refuses to do it. She walks out head held high, no position in the company but a solid payout and several concessions on the part of Moira Queen to get her to keep quiet about her affair and about Thea’s true parentage.

It wasn’t ideal, but she had walked in and stood on equal ground as the Ice Queen. That was a win in her books. Only a battle won, but a win all the same.

…

“What do you mean, I have to stay here, Mama?”

Isabel crouched in front of her daughter. Her daughter has her same brown hair, the same brown eyes, there’s very little but the shape of her face that resembles Robert. Her sparkly purple leotard draws attention from her quivering lower lip. “You have to stay here, babushka, so your auntie and uncle can watch over you. The schools are better here. You will be happier.”

“But Mama-“

“Shhhhh, honey.” Isabel wipes away her tears gently. It’s about the only thing she does gently these days. “Remember everything I taught you. Learn as much as you can, as quick as you can. Never dumb yourself down for a man. You are strong, intelligent, and beautiful. I will visit when I can. Know that Mama loves you.”

It hurts to say goodbye. Her daughter is the only one who holds her heart now. She’s leaving her heart behind her as she flies back across the sea to Russia and Stellmor.

She needs to work on her next plan.

…

“Isabel Rochev?”

She’s clicks out of the open window on her screen, shoving down a scowl at the headlines of a recently returned Oliver Queen. The American headlines with that family were always so gauche, predictably terrible. She looks up at her office door, where her assistant is supposed to stop any unwanted visitors. The man in the doorway is a giant. A well-dressed giant, but the rugged man was definitely used to much more sun than they usually got in Russia.

“And who are you?” She doesn’t have time for visitors, not now, not when she still has plans to formulate, plans that are in jeopardy thanks to a newly returned Oliver Queen.

“Ms. Rochev, my name is Slade Wilson, and I believe we can help each other.”

He steps in the room with a confidence Isabel has seen in soldiers, like a CEO who knows he’s in control of the entire room the moment he enters it. It’s an admirable quality, but as a woman in a man’s world, it irks Isabel. A woman rarely gains instantaneous respect like that, especially when a man is in the room.

But she is intrigued.

“What would that be, Mister Wilson?”

He places a hand on a chair. “May I sit?”

She nods. “Get to the point, Mr. Wilson. I’m a busy woman.”

“Then I’ll get right to it. You want Queen Consolidated.”

He has her full attention. She turns in her seat to face him more fully. “I’m listening.”

“You made a play for it 2007, but you couldn’t get the support. I can help you get that.”

She clasps her hands in front of her with a bland smile. They’re pretty words, meant to and she doesn’t trust them. “And what’s in it for you?”

“Revenge.”

Isabel freezes at the word, tilting her head in interest. His voice is dead and cold. It’s definitely not anything close to kind.

“Oliver Queen killed the woman I loved, and in return I swore to destroy him. I don’t care about the company or why you want it. I just need your help to bring him down.”

She scoffs. “I’ve never met the man. I can’t imagine I’d be of much help.”

“Ah, but you knew his father, and based on the payout from Moira Queen, I’m willing to bet you know a whole batch of Queen family secrets, secrets I can use.” He smiles. It might have been charming if not for the cold look in his one functioning eye.

Isabel contemplates him. “I might have one or two.”

“Then do we have an agreement?” He holds out a giant paw of a hand, looking her directly in the eyes. He looks at her with respect, not as a tool. Without her tricks of speaking softly so the other person had to lean forward to listen, of remaining stoic and aloof. She had to do it to get where she was. But this partnership…this could work.

…

“Mama?”

Isabel grins as she turns toward the voice, happy to finally have the chance to visit her in person.  “It’s me, Evie.” The words are strained as her daughter walks tentatively forward. Her eyes dart to the shadowy figure behind Isabel, rightfully cautious.

Evelyn pulls her braid over her shoulder, folding her arms across her chest to keep off early morning chill. “I didn’t know you were coming. Aunt Jess says you’re not a fan of the outdoors.”

Isabel’s upper lips curl up as she takes in the brightly colored tents. No, she doesn’t like camping. In fact, she kind of hates it, but it’s a necessary evil in this current situation. “Camping teaches survival skills.”

Evelyn laughs caustically. “Yeah, that’s what Aunt Jess and Uncle Mike say, but I’ve yet to find a time when learning to catch fish in a stream comes in handy.”

From the shadows comes a low rumble, a chuckle. “You’d be surprised, kid.”

“And who are you?”

Part of Isabel admires her daughter’s fearless attitude, the other part is just glad she’s not the one raising her. Her daughter is fierce, tenacious, stubborn. Resilient.

“Evelyn, this is Slade Wilson. Mr. Wilson, my daughter, Evelyn Sharp.”

There’s a silent stare-down of sorts between the two, dark on Evelyn’s side and amused on Slade’s. Isabel steps closer to her daughter to get her attention.

“Babushka, Slade and I are going to do something, something dangerous, and we need to be prepared.” Evelyn frowns at her. “This is going to be dangerous. Not just to us, but to you. So we’re going to spend the next month training.”

She frowns. “Training? Training for what?”

“Listen, kid,” Slade interrupts, stepping into the sunlight. “Your mother and I are going up against a dangerous enemy. We both agreed you should be prepared as well.”

“No offense, buckaroo, but I’m not interested.”

A line has been crossed, an insult delivered, and Slade Wilson is not the forgiving type. She’s almost certain he’ll reach for the sword strapped across his back, but instead he laughs.

“I like you, kid. I think you and I are going to get along just fine.

…

Evelyn keeps one eye on the news as her mother stands on the stage in front of the Queen Consolidated sign. Just months ago the city was half destroyed. Slade and her mother didn’t elaborate their plans, not to her anyway. All her mother said was that she was going this for  _ her. _ For her legacy, so that she could take over the company her father built. 

And hadn’t that come as a shock. Robert Queen, deceased billionaire, was her father, a man she had always wondered about and would now never get to meet. With that came the revelation that she had siblings...well, one half sibling. Apparently her and Thea Queen didn’t actually share any DNA. 

“Don’t worry about it, kid. Your mother’s going to be fine.” 

Evelyn drops her half-eaten burger on her plate and turns to face Slade. “How can you be so sure?”

He laughs, loud and full. “Because she’s a warrior. She’s not going to let anything stand in her way, not for long. So she didn’t get Queen Consolidated right away. It still fits in our plan. In fact, it might be even better.” 

“And what is this plan, exactly?” 

Try as she might, she never gets an actual answer,  just an evil grin before he turns the topic back to her training,  the gruesome, my-body-feels-like-a-walking-bruise workouts that are supposedly teaching her how to fight. 

“Well, first we’re going to work with the escrima sticks and then we’ll move on to archery.”

Her mother isn’t much better, but at least her lessons involve significantly less bruising. 

“Why do we have to do archery anyway? It’s not like you’re good with a bow.” She’s seen him  fight far better with a sword and the sticks. He’s a better teacher with them too. 

Slade’s face darkens. “Because she thinks you’d make a good archer.” 

Evelyn looks away. She’s used to this now: the faraway looks, the mention of a she from his past. It’s never good to bring her up, but it’s always clear to her that he loved her, whoever she was. It’s equally clear that she’s dead and that this plan is some sort of revenge for that. But then there are times he speaks as if she’s still alive and there with them.

“She was a great archer,” he continues softly, a voice she’s never heard the fearsome Slade Wilson use before, “a warrior.” 

Evelyn nods. “Alright then. When do we start?” 

… 

They’re gone. 

Dead. 

Murdered by the team of mask-wearing vigilantes. 

Not just her mother, but Slade Wilson too. 

That would have been bad enough, but then they had to besmirch her mother’s name,  make her out to be a crazed woman. It was abominable. They took her mother, her teacher, and left her with nothing. She was both angry and relieved that she had never shared her mother’s last name. Angry because she couldn’t stand up and claim her mother as her own, and relieved that she didn’t have to deal with any hate thrown her way. 

But Slade wasn’t dead. She knew he wasn’t. He’d managed to send her a message, to tell  her to keep fighting. 

So she did. 

She made friends with a hacker, created a new electronic background, found teachers to help hone her skills, and studied up on the so-called vigilantes until she was able to find them and work her way into her inner circle. 

She used all her mother’s lessons, all of Slade’s: she did what she had to do with only one goal in mind. She made deals with devils and tricked and fought her way through life. 

The one bump in the road, the one thing they hadn’t prepared her for was Oliver Queen. 

She knew him, as her half-brother, a pseudo-sibling she didn’t want to hurt if she didn’t have to. What she didn’t know was that he spent his nights running around in green leather shooting arrows. It leaves her conflicted. Should she kill the one blood relative she has left? Or was revenge for her mother’s death more important? 

It was the fact that he was a good man that made that decision for her. If he had shown himself to be anything less, she would have killed him, Prometheus be damned. But he wasn’t. She might have even started to fall in love on that team with a boy covered in ancient, radioactive rags. 

But all of it led to this final moment, to Lian Yu, where, if she played her cards right, she could walk away with Slade Wilson, the man who, as gruff as he was, was the last connection she had to her mother, her teacher, the person who understood her. 

So that’s why she’s here, fighting former friends and relatives by the side of a psychopath. 

To save Slade Wilson. 

She doesn’t give a damn who wins or loses. She just needs Oliver to bring along a former friend to save his team, and then she’ll have someone again. She planned for this, learned her opponents for this. 

She can’t lose.


End file.
